


You're Within, I'm Without

by Anonymous



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Loud Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Press Tour, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 04:22:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14441313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Matter of fact, I stole your toy,” Anthony says, knowing exactly what he’s doing. And Sebastian is quiet, except for when he’s not.





	You're Within, I'm Without

“My agent said we have twelve and a half interviews today,” Sebastian says as they’re getting mic’d up. “I’m hoping the half is because we’ve got another kid asking questions. Those are bearable.”

Anthony tries not to double-take, he really does, but he’s fairly sure they’re the most words Sebastian’s ever said to him of his own volition. 

“I wouldn’t bet on it. It’s probably more like a 5 question twitter response thing.”

“Oh. Great.”

“You don’t like doing interviews, man?” Anthony asks, because Sebastian hasn’t complained so far. Also, he hasn’t actually _done_ the interviews so far. He just sits there, looking like a beautiful cardboard cut-out, everyone knows.

“I never know what to say and when I do think of something I sound like a dick, and I know at some point I’m gonna have to put my entire foot in my mouth because I said too much or I played along too well or I made a bad joke or… it’s so much pressure.”

Anthony nods. He gets it. He never lets it faze him, but he gets it.

Sebastian is quiet. Famed for it. Anthony didn’t know how to deal with it at first. He tried to do the asshole thing and push him out of his comfort zone, force him into confrontation, but that made Sebastian retreat even more. So then Anthony took a different tack, went for some tenderness, and he’d gotten a better response, though it was still monosyllabic. 

Some days, when Anthony’s at his most frustrated, he thinks maybe Sebastian doesn’t say anything because there’s nothing in his pretty little head. It’s just… disquieting, to make a bad Dad joke, to sit next to someone for over a half hour and have them say nothing much at all. He’ll ask a complex question and get a one word answer. He’ll ask for an opinion and get a face and gesture, that, yeah, is as expressive as a paragraph of speech, but he actually likes Sebastian’s voice and would like to hear it once in a while.

The thing he maybe didn’t count on, and the thing he definitely should’ve, is that while he’s sitting there silent, Sebastian’s listening. He’s listening and he’s observing and he’s memorizing. So when Sebastian finally does speak, with a dry head-tilt and mocking smile, it’s to throw some of Anthony’s comments right back in his face. Anthony’s a weird mixture of annoyed, intrigued, confused, and worst of all, turned on. 

Marvel originally paired them up as punishment, Anthony’s fairly sure. Those controlling bastards were doing the whole naughty kid placed next to the good kid routine, but joke’s on them because that shit didn’t work in elementary school and it sure as hell ain’t gonna fly here. Anthony always could corrupt the sweetest by being a honey and that’s apparently held true. 

So, now, here Sebastian is, opening up to him, actually telling him about how he feels, and Anthony freezes up. What’s he supposed to say? Should he rib him? Should he tell him to suck it up, accept it as part of his six soon to be seven figure deal? 

“It’ll be okay,” Anthony finally says, when they’re wired up and there’s water on a little table between two mediocre chairs. “You do what you do best. I’ll fill the gaps.”

“You’re a true friend,” Sebastian says, sardonic, but he taps a hand on Anthony’s shoulder and smiles, and there’s sincerity there. 

Anthony’s in trouble.

*

“I need to stop trying to be funny,” Sebastian says, squinting at his phone like it personally offended him. “Every time I do I take it too far and then people get mad at me.”

He’s hiding in Anthony’s hotel room because… Anthony doesn’t actually know why, since he has his cell phone on him, but he enjoys the company. Anthony likes having someone there to bounce ideas off, to share the air. 

“Do you take it too far or are people too damn sensitive?” Anthony asks, because part of him believes political correctness has gone mad and a bigger part really doesn’t like it when Sebastian beats himself up for the kind of misstep they’ve all made. 

“I take it too far,” Sebastian says, flat. 

“We all do,” Anthony replies, because that was clearly Sebastian’s conscience speaking and he gets a pinched look when Anthony mouths off about freedom of speech, like he disagrees but doesn’t wanna get into shit. “Fifteen interviews in one day? Saying the same shit over and over again? Answering inane questions left, right, center, upside-down, inside-out? We’re gonna fuck up.”

“Yeah, well…” Sebastian shrugs, rubs at his head. “Maybe Marvel will finally get the picture and stop making me do these things.’

“Nah, they’re gonna sit you next to Mouthfrog for the next run.”

“Wonderful. Frogmouth and Mouthfrog together. The internet will be thrilled.”

“What?” 

“You never seen people say I look amphibian?”

Anthony rears back. “What?!” He angles his head from side-to-side, tries to see it. Okay, so some people have a point, but it’s not like it detracts from his overall Adonis-like features.

“Maybe I can put myself out of my misery by just climbing inside,” Sebastian says, pushing his flat hand out from his body like he’s imagining it. He scrunches up his face and it’s straight-up adorable. Anthony hates him. 

“You’re no fun when you’re like this, all in your head. You need a distraction.”

Sebastian gazes up at him. Anthony can practically see the cogs turning. 

“What d’you suggest?” Sebastian asks, with that little purr in his voice that gets panties wet and tongues dry. He’s looking up at Anthony with come-hither eyes and pink moistened lips. 

“Oh no,” Anthony replies. “Nuh uh. You are not doing this to me. This is not a thing that’s gonna get done.”

“All right,” Sebastian says, looking down, changing his tone. “Sorry. Guess I misread this situation too.”

Anthony takes several deep breaths. “You got that right,” he gusts out.

“It’s just, you _look_ at me sometimes, like…”

“Nope.”

“And you seemed kinda jealous of Winston…”

“Not even a little.”

*

Turns out, Anthony was wrong. 

*

Sebastian is quiet, except when he’s not. When he’s writhing on Anthony’s bed with his clothes on the floor and his pink nipples all taut and his dick slapping against his treasure trail and his abs jumping, he’s loud. He makes cut off little grunts and breathy little moans and they’re the only little thing about him. 

Anthony can’t keep his hands off him. The _sounds_ he makes when Anthony slides fingers over his torso or against his close-cropped hair. The whimpers when Anthony sucks him down. It’s a cacophony and Anthony’s obsessed. 

He’s still wearing his pants, couldn’t bother to take them off completely, just pulled his dick through his fly and eventually unbuttoned the top. This was after Sebastian kissed every inch of his chest and neck, before he told Anthony he’d brought something he’d been meaning to try out but hadn’t had the courage.

Anthony is still feeling the rush of heat under his skin from when Sebastian showed him the toy, is painfully grateful that blushes never show. 

“You had this in your pocket?” Anthony asks, jaw clenching just thinking about it. “This whole time?”

“Been meaning to give this a go, but I chicken out,” Sebastian says. “You always make me feel braver than I am.” 

So fucking earnest, it makes Anthony heartsore.

“What do you need, baby?” 

So, now, here Sebastian is, feet planted on Anthony’s hotel bed, ass squeezing around a kind of butt-plug Anthony’s never seen before and isn’t at all curious about – except, who’s he kidding – he’s dying from wanting to know. Sebastian’s everything is tempting as he rocks his hips up in jagged cants that look perfectly timed. His dick is beautiful, thick at the base and tapered. His muscles are in sharp relief. He’s almost everyone’s wet dream, gender or sexual orientation be damned. 

“How you feeling, White Wolf?” Anthony asks, voice low, because Sebastian’s looking at him with that gray hooded-lid look that used to drive him crazy when they first met. 

“Like I wanna howl,” Sebastian says back with a grin, white of his teeth a stark contrast with the pink of his skin. “Feels real good, rubbing up all inside me. Makes all my nerves sing, you know? It’s better when you’re touching me, blowing me, kissing me with that mouth that never, ever stops.”

“Really, now?”

“Really. This the quietest you’ve ever been, Anthony?”

Sebastian thinks he can mock him? Two can play that game. Anthony spits into his hand, drags it up Sebastian’s cock, gives a twist. He watches, riveted, as Sebastian’s ass muscles flex harder and his left knee begins to shake. Sebastian lets out a soft, “Oh fuck,” more like a prayer than anything else.

“This your loudest?”

“I could get louder.”

It’s a challenge that Anthony’s going to rise to. He sucks Sebastian’s cock down again, gets as deep as he can, then slides off with a wet pop. He does that four more times, wrapping one of his hands around the base as his other fingers stroke against Sebastian’s taint, near the arm of the plug that’s designed to stimulate the perineum. Anthony slides off again, takes a breath, watches as all of Sebastian’s muscles tense.

And Sebastian was right, he can be loud. He shouts as he begins to shudder. Not words, nothing articulate, but filled with emotion, bitten off groans and glottal sounds, and something that could be Anthony’s name if it wasn’t 90% slur. Sebastian’s whole lower half is gyrating off the bed as he spurts and spurts and spurts all over himself. His legs are continuing to tremble, his eyes rolling back in his head, and Anthony’s honestly _concerned_. 

Anthony smooths his hands over Sebastian’s thighs, smearing come, but also trying to settle him. Sebastian’s breathing is quick, his torso rising and falling, the dip of his stomach deepening and rounding out. When he finally opens his eyes he gazes at Anthony and smiles a gentle, warm smile that looks full of gratitude and fondness. 

“That was so… you are so…” Sebastian says, lost for words again. He wriggles, full-bodied against the sheets. “Lemme deal with this and then I’ll do you.”

Anthony swallows thickly as he watches Sebastian rock the plug in and out of his hole, before finally pulling it free. His hole is a deep pink and still so tight-looking, it’s hard to believe he had that curved black plastic right up there rubbing against his prostate not seconds before. 

Anthony’s dick had flagged when he’d worried he’d killed his co-star in an orgasmic explosion, but it flexes back to life watching Sebastian dip a finger deep in. 

Sebastian’s been watching him again, because he locks eyes with him, licks his lower lip. “Actually, you wanna? I could go another round.” 

Anthony opens his mouth, closes it, does it again, realizes he’s goldfishing. Fuck, he hates role reversal. 

“Yeah, okay,” he says, aiming for nonchalant. “Might as well give you a taste.”

“Please don’t say of your chocolate milkshake. I couldn’t handle it.”

“Hey, you said it, not me. And frankly, I’m offended you went there. You talk too much,” Anthony says, but he’s grinning despite himself and peeling his jeans and boxer briefs all the way down besides.

He strokes the condom on carefully, so this doesn’t end too soon, watches intently as Sebastian adds more lube, uses his fingers to open himself up more. He helps him change position, get settled on his knees with a pillow beneath his hips, his right shoulder touching the bedding. Sebastian is gorgeous like this, lean muscle in direct counterpoint to his soft curves. His strong arms and broad shoulders and miles of skin all on display, for Anthony to slide his fingers over and admire the contrast between them.  


“You’re my sweet vanilla ice aren’t you, baby,” Anthony croons, nudging the tip of his dick against Sebastian’s hole. The promise of heat is already making his heart race faster.

“Are you actively trying to ruin the moment?” Sebastian asks, looking over his shoulder, smiling. His eyes are crinkling at the corners and his lips look soft.

Anthony could get used to this. 

“That’s my least offensive nickname for you,” Anthony points out, sinking in an inch, holding it, even though he wants nothing more than to keep driving forward. 

“Oh fuck, Anthony. Fuck. Shut the fuck up and get on with it already.”

Anthony draws back, smiles when Sebastian whines. He pushes in again and goes deeper, holding hard onto Sebastian’s hips. It’s tight and hot and Sebastian’s clenching around him like he’s trying to suck him in far as he can go. 

“How’s it feel now?”

“You know how big you are,” Sebastian gripes. But he reaches back, taps Anthony’s arm. “Feels amazing.”

Anthony wraps his hand over Sebastian’s, strokes his thumb over his wrist. “Thought as much. Keep telling me, sweetheart.”

Anthony rocks in and out as Sebastian tells him how good it feels, how thick and deep and perfect, how much he likes being with Anthony, how he gives him the space and time to gather his thoughts, doesn’t add extra pressure, doesn’t make him speak when he’s happier silent. His voice has that soft quality that makes Anthony tingle all the way to his Goddamned toes. Anthony presses kisses against his spine because he didn’t expect Sebastian to go _there_ , to make this about feelings. But. 

“Used to drive me completely crazy,” he says, speeding up his thrusts. “Trying to draw you outta your shell. When you started opening up for me I felt damn lucky that I was the one you decided to trust.”

There’s a shake around him and he can tell Sebastian’s laughing at him, the asshole. Anthony nips his shoulder in retaliation.

“You close?” Sebastian asks a minute later, throaty. He’s clutching the sheets, knuckles going white. 

“Yeah, baby, I’m almost there, you feel really good. Great. Better than.”

He’s going to come any second now, with the rhythmic pulses around his dick, the sight of Sebastian beneath him, the smell of sex in the air. He closes his eyes, listens to the wet slaps of their bodies as he ruts in a final few times and comes, breath stopping in his chest, teeth clenched, fingers sliding against Sebastian’s skin. 

They collapse together, Anthony doing what he needs to do and then curling around Sebastian again because it feels too good not to. 

*

“Matter of fact, I stole your toy,” Anthony says, knowing exactly what he’s doing. It’s not suggestion so much as covert directness. 

Sebastian’s been letting him and Winston take over a lot of the questions and Anthony wants to see if he can get him to break. Sebastian’s response is instantaneous. He gives him direct eye contact, feigns a frown.

“Did you?” Sebastian asks, and Anthony swears any second now he’s going to say, ‘I thought it was a loan. I’m letting you borrow it until tomorrow. I wanna see it in action.’ That’s what his _eyes_ say.

“Never mind,” Anthony says, has to look away, because Sebastian doesn’t seem ruffled, but he sure is. 

Sebastian is quiet, but he says a lot with his expressions, with his gestures, and Anthony’s learned how to read him. Also, he’s allowed to see Sebastian at his loudest. He gets the best of all worlds.


End file.
